Football Slip-Sliding Away

I’ve been a football fan ever since I realized it was socially acceptable (even encouraged) to watch big, beefy men run around in tight pants. In the initial phases (Michigan vs. Ohio State games in elementary school), I didn’t understand the game. I watched it because everyone else was watching it and because, even then, I thought it was hot when men were yelling about sports. In high school and college, I actually “got it.” I knew about first downs. I knew what a field goal was, and—God help me—I even once used the word “trickery” in conversation. Since then, I’ve been obsessed. If you know me at all, you know I’m a Michigan Wolverines/Pittsburg Steelers psychopath. Have been for years. In fact, my little brother won’t watch football with me if the Steelers are playing. He says I’m too scary.

So it is no surprise to you, fellow football fans, that the end of December makes me horrendously depressed. It symbolizes the end of the season. For instance, this year, my precious Wolverines didn’t even make a bowl, and the Steelers have tossed their playoff chances with five straight weeks of failure. That being said, I’m not allowed to complain, because well, my team did win the Super Bowl last year, didn’t it? My father likes to remind me of this, since he’s a Lions fan, and since when have they won a Super Bowl? Therefore, I gracefully shut the heck up.

This year was different. Not because the Steelers have been sucking, but because I had the chance to attend my very first NFL game. Opening night of this season, my boyfriend put his name in a raffle at my favorite football bar. Surprisingly, he won. He won two free tickets to see the Carolina Panthers, December 6, in Charlotte, North Carolina. I was excited at the prospect of seeing friends in Charlotte, sure, but I was more excited at the prospect of a LIVE NFL GAME. Clichéd as it is (especially this time of year), I was like a kid at Christmas at the tailgate. First off, I’d never really been to a NFL tailgate. People go all out. This one couple had a decked out fake fire truck with “TAILGATE” on the side and a keg-o-rater, stereo system, and benches inside. But it was more than the fire truck. More than the binge drinking before noon. More than the camaraderie. I’ll be selfish here. It was all about ME and my first NFL game. They were celebrating! They were welcoming me into their ranks! I was an honored inductee, dang it!

Even though I don’t care about the Carolina Panthers (does anyone actually care about the Carolina Panthers?), I dug the look of the stadium from the outside. The great, big, growling panther statues outside were cool. The Christmas wreaths on their necks deterred from their ferocity, but hey, who says mascots can’t get into the holiday spirit, too? Inside, I could hear the undercurrents of crowd mutterings from above me, but it wasn’t until we arrived at our seats that, again, I “got it.” I’ll say this: NFL stadiums feel smaller in person than they do on TV. NFL players look bigger, because you can actually compare their Redwood-size thighs to your own thighs and realize, damn, that man could SQUISH me to death. You can’t see the plays. You have to watch the big screen, and it felt a lot like watching TV. It would have been easy to be disappointed, because when I sat down on my chilly, plastic seat, there were no celebratory fireworks. I could have shrugged my shoulders and been unimpressed. I mean, it’s not exactly MAGICAL.

But I will tell you this. There is nothing like watching two interceptions in the end zone. There is nothing like the sound of hundreds and hundreds of screaming Carolina fans on a defensive third down. There’s nothing like freezing your buns off, for love of the game. And there is nothing like high-fiving the dude behind you, even though you’ve never seen him in your life. Maybe I like football for all of these reasons—for the action, for the excitement, and for the endless random conversations I’ve had with strangers about the Steelers defensive line, God’s hatred of the Lions, and how I want to punch Chad Johnson in the nose.

So. I write this post in ode to my first NFL game and in remembrance of another football season, slowly but surely drawing to a close. Football, we love you. Football, we will miss you. But football, we will see you again next fall.

(And maybe, next year, the Steelers will get their S@&$ in order again.)

An H and Five Ws with Award-Winning Author Alan St. Jean

Alan St. Jean wins over kids, teachers, and parents with little more than a stanza when he reads his new Daydreams Collection to classrooms nationwide. Not only does he have a new book hitting shelves, but his birthday is Christmas. So I thought…why not? Let’s do an interview to celebrate Alan’s newest accomplishment: the release of Alyssa and the Spider!

Alan St. Jean's Alyssa and the Spider, illustrated by Libby Carruth Krock

It’s summer vacation, and all young Ralphie wants to do is relax and watch some TV! His little sister, Alyssa, has other plans. She wants to play with her big brother, but Ralphie sends her away. “She’ll be fine,” he reasoned, but Ralphie is wrong! Soon, Alyssa finds a spider, and Alyssa hates spiders. Ralphie hears her screams and begins to wonder, what would happen if his little sis was gone? Ralphie has to save her, but (gulp) he didn’t expect to find a spider so LARGE! Will Ralphie be able to save young Alyssa, or will she have to save her big brother?

Alan St. Jean spent the first 25 years of his career in management when, in 2002, he made a decision to pursue his true passions—writing and teaching. In 2007, he completed the final book of the medieval trilogy Aidan of Oren, an epic tale of friendship for all ages. His next project, a four edition picture book series called The Daydreams Collection, made its debut in 2008. Alyssa and the Spider is the third in this series. Mr. St. Jean lives in Battle Creek, MI. He is available for school visits, speaking engagements, interviews, and workshops. Visit his website at http://www.alanstjean.com.

So let’s pick his brain a bit about Alyssa and the Spider. Without further ado…

An H and Five Ws with Award-Winning Author Alan St. Jean

How did you think of the premise for Alyssa and the Spider?
I wrote Alyssa and the Spider for my little sister; it is based on a true story from way back in the day when we were young.

Who has the final say in your manuscripts?
I do.  Although much input is solicited from friends, experts, and children (ok, children are the real experts) – I have the final say.  The manuscripts are my voice; it is important that I have the final say to ensure continuity and consistency of the work.

What is your favorite part about school visits?
That’s an easy question. My favorite part of school visits is seeing the kids light up and get excited about reading and writing.

Where was your favorite author event/book signing?
It was a book signing combined with a poetry combination here in Battle Creek, Michigan.  I had the opportunity to work with the kids on their poetry and presentation skills prior to the contest, and then served as a judge for the competition.  Book signing followed with a couple of other authors.  It was a very nice, well attended event…and it was great for the kids to feel so involved.

When have you been most frustrated as an author?
I get frustrated when I submit work to publishers that gets returned in seemingly perfect, unread condition, along with a form letter telling me that my work is not what their company is looking for.  It makes me wonder, but it does not dissuade me from writing.

Why do you write children’s books?
I write children’s books because I’m a story teller, I love kids, and because I have great passion for teaching.  I’ve learned that humor and music make great teaching tools, so I incorporate them into my writing every chance I get.

Alan has TONS of resources on his website. Check them out!
AUTHOR VISITS
SONGS TO GO WITH EACH BOOK!
ABOUT HIS OTHER BOOKS
ORDER ALYSSA AND THE SPIDER

If you’re interested in a review copy, an interview, or booking an event, feel free to leave a comment here or get in touch with me! Happy holidays! And happy soon to be Christmas birthday, Alan!

Dead Spiders

For a long time, I had a pet Banana Spider outside my office window. I watched her build a web. I watched her seduce and eat dude spiders. Her ass grew, as did my work TO DO list. She would watch me type, and I would watch her, watching me, through those eight million eyes. Then, one day, I thought she was dead. I felt terror and dismay at this realization, because Ms. Banana Spider had become a friend—a compatriot and an entertaining distraction at work. That day, though, she wasn’t dead. She was just resting.

Ms. Banana Spider is not resting anymore. Ms. Banana Spider is dead. I watched it happen. It was about a month ago, on one of those uncharacteristically cold Charleston afternoons. Again, I looked up, and I thought she was just taking a nap. Then, the wind blew. Ms. Banana Spider fell out of her web and into the bushes below my office window. I stood up and stared outside. After the initial shock had melted into mourning, I sat down in my chair and realized it was over. My little friend was dead, and for the rest of that day, I typed slower, walked with hunched shoulders, and frowned down at my TO DO list.

The feeling grew. The dead spider bothered me. I’m not superstitious. I don’t believe in “signs.” But maybe part of me had gone with Ms. Banana Spider. Maybe, as I watched her web fill with pieces of fallen leaves, I felt myself toppling—cold and lonely—into the bushes outside my office, too.

Yesterday was my last day at my full time job. I resigned two weeks ago, and now, I sit here, typing on my computer at home with no Banana Spider outside my window. And it’s okay. It’s winter, and the spiders are hibernating somewhere warm. The seasons are changing. Everything changes. I was at my full time job for a year and a half. I learned how to be a publicist. I learned how the publishing world works. I made great friends, and I will never EVER regret moving here, to Charleston, SC, for said job. I have been, and I am still, blessed. But it was time for a change. It was time to shake off the dead spiders and have a new adventure.

One of my favorite quotes: “Life’s journey is not to arrive at the grave safely in a well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, totally worn out, shouting ‘Holy shit…what a ride!’” And so the ride continues. A wide open unknown awaits. I am lucky to have the support of so many friends and family. I am lucky to have the opportunity to immerse myself in freelancing. Finally, I’m lucky to have made the acquaintance of a certain Ms. Banana Spider, who reminded me that sometimes, you just gotta move on to move up.

Caster Magic in Beautiful Creatures, by Kami Garcia and Margaret Stohl

Ethan Wate is sixteen, living in Gatlin, South Carolina. Nothing happens in Gatlin. Ever. When Ethan begins to have nightmares—painful nightmares about losing a girl he’s never met—he begins to feel that perhaps something is going to happen. It happens sooner than he could have expected, with the arrival of the mysterious niece of the Gatlin shut-in, Old Man Ravenwood. Her name is Lena Duchannes, and she doesn’t fit in. In fact, she sounds a lot like me in high school—black hair, black clothes, writing on her hands, and tons of jewelry. Something is different about her, and Ethan can feel it. This feeling goes from mild curiosity to utter confusion when Ethan realizes this mysterious girl is the girl in his dreams. But what is she hiding? What is she so afraid of? And can Ethan do anything to save her, or is the world of Lena Dechannes a world in which Ethan could never exist?

I’m talking, of course, about Beautiful Creatures, by Kami Garcia and Margaret Stohl—a debut YA novel, intended for teens but applicable for all ages. This is a paranormal romance, at its most basic. Its two lead characters—Ethan and Lena—can communicate telepathically, for instance. Some weird, wacky stuff happens that I will not explain here (don’t wanna give it away!), but I will say this stuff keeps you guessing. There is much talk of the “Caster world.” There is a version of time travel, thanks to an antique locket, that allows Ethan and Lena to see into Civil War Gatlin. And most importantly, there is much discussion of going “Dark” or going “Light.”

This paranormal aspect is all well and good, but it’s not what Beautiful Creatures is about. Beautiful Creatures is a character study. At the center is narrator Ethan Wate. First off, Ethan is a wonderful narrator. I enjoy and relate to the world through his eyes, because he is just like the rest of us. He’s not melodramatic, and he’s not in love with a forlorn vampire (for example). Ethan just exists as any sixteen-year-old would—trying to survive high school, the recent death of his mother, and a father who has locked himself away, physically and emotionally. Lena is a troubled young woman. It’s easy to look at the exterior painted by Garcia and Stohl, reminiscent of Kurt Cobain mourners of the late nineties, and call cliché. But that’s just her exterior. There is a lot more going on with this girl! A lot more than most of us will ever, ever go through, and again, I won’t get into the specifics here, but she’s having a rough time, dang it!

What we CAN all relate to is the relationship between Ethan and Lena. They’re kids, sure, but how old were Romeo and Juliet, huh? If they could fall in love, why can’t Ethan and Lena? Their relationship is fully developed over the course of these 600-plus pages. It starts the way most high school relationships start, but it continues. It develops, to a point where you—the reader—root for them. Scenes are heart-warming; scenes are heart-breaking. There are moments toward the end of the book when Ethan and Lena clutch to each other, wishing the world would fall away and leave them be—where they wonder, “Why can’t everyone and everything just disappear so we can be HAPPY?” This is humanity. This is universal. This is the way Garcia and Stohl capture our attention and our sympathy, in the midst of yet another YA paranormal romance. You will relate to these characters, and in turn, you will love these characters. And when the book ends, you will be screaming, “When’s the next one coming out?!” Because there will be a next one.

Beautiful Creatures by Kami Garci and Margaret Stohl is a YA paranormal romance in the midst of many current YA paranormal romances. Yet, it exists above the others. The dialogue is expressive, honest, and at times, comical. The book is action-packed. It is a mystery, and you will struggle through the Caster World puzzle pieces, through to the book’s conclusion. However, most importantly, Garcia and Stohl know their characters. These authors feel the loss of Ethan’s mother. They feel Lena’s fear of the future. They understand the dread of lost love. In this understanding of the human condition, Garcia and Stohl achieve literary genius.

Keep up with the world of Beautiful Creatures here: http://beautifulcreaturesthebook.com/. Go buy the book while you’re at it.

An H and Five Ws with Beautiful Creatures Authors Kami Garcia and Margaret Stohl

Best of Amazon 2009? Check. Wall Street Journal Best Books to Give as Gifts List? Check. American Library Association William C. Morris YA Debut Award Finalist 2010? Check. Optioned by Warner Brothers? CHECK. Seriously. And the official release date was just December 1!

Beautiful Creatures, by Kami Garcia and Margaret Stohl. At your local bookstore NOW!

If you’re a publishing nerd like me, you know I’m talking about newly released Beautiful Creatures from Kami Garcia and Margaret Stohl. In the current literary climate, hearing about another YA paranormal romance could make your eyes roll. But we ain’t talkin’ vampires and werewolves, people. We’re talking…well, I’ll get into that tomorrow when I post my review of Beautiful Creatures. For now, you will just have to check out the taglines on the book’s website:

“Some loves are meant to be…others are cursed. There were no surprises
in Gatlin County. At least, that’s what I thought. Turns out, I couldn’t have been more wrong. There was a curse. There was a girl. And in the end, there was a grave.”

Cool, right? When I saw the ARC offer, I requested a copy. Since then, I’ve had the chance to learn more about the authors, Kami and Margaret. Margaret has written everything from video games to screenplays. She was educated at Yale, Stanford…need I go on? First and foremost, she’s a WRITER. Kami has always felt an affinity for the American South (the setting of Beautiful Creatures). She has an MA in Education, and she could easily live on pizza and Diet Coke. Together, these women created this debut novel, already receiving multiple awards and rave reviews.

Kami and Margaret. (Photo credit: Alex Hoerner.)

Tomorrow, I will post my review of Beautiful Creatures. Now, I would like you to meet Kami Garcia and Margaret Stohl.

An H and Five Ws with Beautiful Creatures Authors Kami Garcia and Margaret Stohl

How easy was it to share writing responsibilities with Kami/Margaret…or did you ever get frustrated?
Kami: Margie’s a workhorse. We edited BC while she was stuck in bed, waiting for back surgery. The only time I get frustrated is when there’s no ice at Margie’s house. I need ice with my Diet Coke.
Margie: We fight like sisters, but never about writing. We’ve always had this weird, perfect agreement about the Caster world.

Who was your favorite author when you were a teenager?
Kami: S.E. Hinton & Judy Blume
Margie: I was sort of a classics/classic fantasy girl. There was on the one hand Jane Austen & the Brontes, and on the other Susan Cooper, Ursula LeGuin, Ray Bradbury, Diana Wynne Jones…

What was it like writing from the perspective of a sixteen year old boy?
Kami: I have four brothers, and most of my friends growing up were guys, so a sixteen year-old boy wasn’t a stretch. But Ethan is really special. He’s the boyfriend we all wish we had in high school.
Margie: It’s not really so much the perspective of a sixteen year-old boy as the perspective of one sixteen year-old boy. We know Ethan so well, he’s easy to write. We always know what he’s thinking.

Where is your favorite place in the American south?
Kami: New Orleans, LA, but I’m also in love with Charleston, SC.
Margie: Charleston, with Savannah running a close second.

When have you been most frustrated with the publishing process?
Kami: We have had the best experience at Little, Brown. Our editors, Jennifer Hunt & Julie Scheina, are geniuses, and LBC has been behind BEAUTIFUL CREATURES from the beginning. They couldn’t have done more for us.
Margie: I think we’ve only ever been frustrated with ourselves in the process— when we get stuck trying to figure our way out of some corner we’ve written ourselves into. Revising is so much harder than drafting, especially for me.

WHY are you a writer?
Kami: As a teenager, I filled notebooks with poetry, and in college, it was short stories. But truthfully, I’m a writer because of Margie. She knew I used to write and pushed me to start again.
Margie: I don’t know why I’m a writer, but I’ve always known I was one – probably since I was five years old. Whether I was writing academic papers or videogames or screenplays, I was always writing. But Kami isn’t just a writer, she’s a finisher, and that’s something I’ve learned from her.

You can keep up with Kami Garcia & Margaret Stohl at www.BeautifulCreaturestheBook.com. And visit Little, Brown’s Beautiful Creatures website at www.SomeLovesAreCursed.com.

Tomorrow, I will post my review! Thanks for the interview, ladies! And keep working hard promoting your award-winning, movie-making debut!

PS: Random shout out. There’s an interview with me at Lost in Books. All about BOOKS. Check it out… http://imlostinbooks.blogspot.com/2009/12/sara-dobie-answers-20-questions.html.

Hints of Dead Cat in Boondock Saints II: All Saints Day

Boondock Saints II: All Saint's Day

The original Boondock Saints will never be surpassed in quality, comedy, or violence. That being said, I wasn’t disappointed by Boondock Saints II: All Saints Day. However, what in God’s name happened to Sean Patrick Flanery’s face? In the opening scene, I turned to my date and said, “It’s not the same guy!” I went through the entire flick, saying, “It’s not the same guy!” Then, dang it, the credits rolled, and it WAS the same guy! He just looked…well, he looked OLD. This is what ten years does to a person, even though Norman Reedus hadn’t changed a bit. It’s always the hot guys who get puffy…

Boondock Saints II catches up with the MacManus brothers (with papa, too) in Ireland, where they’ve been hiding out since the initial rampage of 1999. They’ve gotten soft. More accurately, they’ve gotten bored and bearded, until someone kills a priest back home in Boston. Of course, they must avenge the priest, so home they go, to kill some bad dudes. And kill they do. The action sequences aren’t quite as good as the original. They do try and mimic the feel and camera angles. It is, after all, from the same director—Troy Duffy—who has a penchant for slow motion shots and spurting blood (and who has never directed anything but Boondock Saints films).

It’s not a spoiler to say David Della Rocco (aka “Rocco”) makes a cameo. How could he not? His comic relief was a key part of Boondock Saints. (Remember the tirade about a dead cat and buying smokes? CLASSIC.) They’ve replaced a fruity and genius Willem Dafoe with Julie Benz, of Dexter fame, and she’s okay. She has some good one-liners, but there’s a dumb part involving her in a cowgirl outfit that made me want to smack myself in the head. There’s also an ill-advised dream sequence that made me want to go beyond smacking myself in the head and straight on to banging my head on the theater railing.

The storyline is more in depth in Boondock Saints II: All Saints Day. We actually learn about these characters. We find out plenty of background on daddy Saint (Billy Connolly), and there is a message, beyond the moral qualm of “Is killing bad guys really bad?” tackled in the original. And I like the question you’re left with when you leave: “Are bad people born or are bad people made?”

My favorite part—the part that made me laugh until I was giggling until I couldn’t breathe until I was making a scene in public—is a semi redo of the drunk saints/dead cat scene in the original. Takes place in their favorite pub. Involves the pub owner with Tourette syndrome. Involves tons of Bushmill’s and cigarettes. And of course, cuss words. You’ll know when it happens, because it will feel familiar, like you have slipped back to 1999 and a handsome Sean Patrick Flanery. It is this among many touches of Duffy, Flanery, and Reedus that make Boondock Saints II worth seeing. If you loved the first one, you will at least enjoy the second.

And yes, when all was said and done, I couldn’t resist a good old shot of Irish whiskey of my own. Happy St. Patrick’s Day in December.

Slow, No Wake in Charleston, SC

That night, it smelled like dead fish, salt, and sewage. Which is why I was hesitant to step from the stoop on Vendue Street, into water that should have been in the harbor. The water was not in the harbor. Instead, waves broke against the Griffon Pub as they would have against slate-gray rocks in New England. I would have drowned if I’d tried to get my car and go home (not to mention unknown damage to my vehicle), so that night, I stayed at the pub and had another pint, because shoot, downtown Charleston had been transformed into a preview of a flooded apocalypse, and we were all trapped together.

On Twitter yesterday morning: “Downtown Charleston, one of the few places in the US where ‘Slow, No Wake’ signs are needed on streets.” Laugh all you want, but Charleston, South Carolina may just be the next sinking city. I know it’s on a peninsula. I’m not afraid of it dropping into the sea like San Francisco. My concern is that one day, salty, stinky seawater will rise and never ebb. Standing on stoops and antique, wrought iron balconies, we will wait for low tide, and low tide will never come. As a city, we will embrace the water taxi and gondola. We will perpetually don raincoats and goulashes, not because we live in Seattle, but because we live in the sea.

When humidity hits 100 percent in July, there will be no need for rooftop swimming pools. We will be able to swim laps in the streets. Our clothing will never dry, and tube tops and platforms will be replaced by teeny bikinis and bare feet in bars. Status symbols will be replaced. No more “What kind of car do you drive?” More likely: “Do you live above the water line?” All of this because one day, the full moon brought the flood, and instead of God wiping out Charleston’s population, he will embrace us as His Lowcountry water babies.

This is what makes our city separate and more divine than other cities. They call us the Holy City because of our churches—because we build no higher than the steeple. I know there is more. I know it’s because every time it rains at high tide, God sends His flood to clean the streets and old beer from shoe bottoms. Then, every time, He parts our southern Dead Sea. The tides ebb, and life returns to normal on dry land. This is what makes us special. This is what makes us Charleston. Because as the surreal waters pound on our parked cars, stranding us for yet another pint, we have faith that the storm will pass. The streets will drain, and every one of us will find our ways home and happy to be here.

An H and Five Ws with NYT Bestselling Author Mary Alice Monroe

I’m very lucky to have had the chance to meet bestselling author Mary Alice Monroe. Not only is she a talented writer, but she’s a pleasant, cheerful, upbeat person who never fails to bring a glow with her. I can understand her GLOW. She gets to live here, in Charleston, South Carolina, where it’s 70 degrees on Thanksgiving. She gets to write while sitting at a desk overlooking the ocean. And finally, she gets to WRITE about the things she loves and actually get paid to do it. So without further ado, meet Mary Alice Monroe.

Mary Alice Monroe

Author Bio: New York Times bestselling author Mary Alice Monroe found her true calling in environmental fiction when she moved to coastal South Carolina. Already a successful author, she was captivated by the beauty and fragility of her new home. Her experiences living in the midst of a habitat that was quickly changing gave her a strong and important focus for her books.

Since then, she has explored the problems of endangered sea turtles (The Beach House, Swimming Lessons, and her first children’s book, Turtle Summer), raptors (Skyward), the indigenous grass and endangered ecosystem (Sweetgrass), and the rivers and mountains of North Carolina in Time is a River.  Publishers Weekly wrote, “Monroe is in her element when describing the wonders of nature and the ways people relate to it.” In July 2009, Pocket Books released her newest novel, Last Light over Carolina, which brings alive the disappearing world of the coastal shrimping industry. 

Monroe continues to write richly textured books that delve into the complexities of the human psyche and the parallels between the land and life.  Mary Alice is an active conservationist.  She is a dedicated member of the Isle of Palms/Sullivan’s Island Turtle Team and serves on the Board of the South Carolina Aquarium. For information, videos, blogs and more, go to www.maryalicemonroe.com.

An H and Five Ws with NYT Bestselling Author Mary Alice Monroe

1) How did you get published?
I did all of the steps that I recommend to authors hoping to get published.  First, I joined a writer’s group.  This group focused on writing techniques, critiques, and mutual support.  We also learned selling techniques: the query letter, proposal writing, manuscript preparation, and synopsis.  I attended conferences where NY agents and editors spoke, did workshops, and held meetings. This is very important.  At conferences I signed up for interviews.  There were groups with one agent and eight of us wannabes sitting at a big table.  Each of us had two minutes to pitch our stories.  It was painful.  Some stuttered, some went on too long and were cut off, and others were prepared and stood out.  Those few were the ones asked to send material.  I also did one-on-one interviews.  Again, a good pitch is critical.  I discovered that no agent or editor will buy or represent your manuscript based on these meetings.  The best you can hope for is for him or her to say, “Send the manuscript.”  Then you can immediately send the manuscript to his or her office with the note stating when you met the agent and that she requested the manuscript.  That at least gets the agent to read a page or two!

I also volunteered at conferences.  I highly recommend it.  I once volunteered to drive an agent I liked to the airport after the conference.  We talked in the car and she asked me to send the manuscript.  I did.  She bought it and that first novel was published. That novel, The Long Road Home, was published by Harper in 1995. It had a small print run and sold out, never to be seen again.  Until this November!  My first novel will be released for the first time since its original publication in November 2010! 

2) Who is your biggest literary influence?
There isn’t only one.  I studied William Blake extensively and he left his mark in everything I do.  I read Charles Dickens voraciously and believe he is the master of characterization.  James Clavell’s work shaped my concept of the noble hero and his thorough research, especially in Shogun, shaped my desire to reveal history and setting with color and verve.  Pat Conroy’s love of the southern landscape inspired me. Rosamunde Pilcher’s talent for revealing character through dialogue, and her ability to make small details show and not tell is unparalleled.  Finally, Rachel Carson’s dedication to nature and the landscape has greatly influenced my work and my motivation.

3) What is your LEAST favorite thing about being a writer?
Deadlines.  

Last Light Over Carolina, by Mary Alice Monroe

4) Where did the idea for Last Light Over Carolina come from?
I’ve always been fascinated with the sight of the shrimp boats on the horizon.  They seemed romantic, yet I was well aware of the hardships and struggles the shrimpers faced.  One day my neighbor, friend, and mentor, Clay Cable, who is also VP of the shrimper’s association, said to me, “Mary Alice, if you’re going to write that book about the shrimpers you’d better hurry up!”   I knew he was right.  The shrimpers are facing threats at many levels–the glut of inferior imported shrimp is driving down prices, the soaring price of diesel fuel is making it too expensive to take the boats out, and the high value of coastal land is causing folks to sell dock space to developers.  I realized that shrimp boats were a vanishing part of our southern landscape and heritage, as was the shrimping industry.  I wanted to tell their story while I could.

5) When have you had the most trouble completing one of your books?
Whenever I feel I don’t have enough research done, or I haven’t found the soul of  the story—that something I want to say through my story—I’m stalled.  It is a frustrating, agonizing time for me.  I dig deeper, I take long walks, I pray, I reflect.  Once the story “clicks” in my mind, I like to write fast so I can get it down.  After that, it’s a lot of hard work, but I’m happy because I’m in the zone.

6) WHY are you a WRITER?
Why do I breathe?   I’ve never not been a story teller.  As a child I made up stories and songs.  I’ve always had a vivid imagination. When I wasn’t making up stories I was reading.  I wrote my first story when I was eight.  I believe it is important for all writers to learn and polish their craft.  But the artist – a painter, a dancer, a singer, a writer – is born with the talent.

Thanks for the interview, Mary Alice! Keep up the great work!

Sara Dobie is Thankful

I’ve found it’s very easy to forget to be thankful. It’s very easy to bitch and moan about the cost of gas. The fact that the Steelers lost to the Kansas City Chiefs. The fact that my life is so hard because it’s rainy today. Thankfulness—gone. And it’s just so easy to do.

Today, I’m putting away my usual cynicism and dark sense of humor, and I’m being all gushy-mushy. I’m listing the things I’m thankful for. Perhaps, my thankfulness will seep through your computer and into your fingertips, until you, too, are thankful. Because shoot, no matter how bad it gets, no matter how gray the skies, there is always a reason to be pleased.

SARA DOBIE IS THANKFUL: That although she was raised a Detroit Lions fan, she expatriated to Pittsburgh in college. Therefore, she no longer gets upset when the Lions lose. She gets excited when they win, but she no longer puts faith in their ability to do so.

SARA DOBIE IS THANKFUL: That her little brother moved to Charleston so they can now watch bad B horror movies and drink cheap beer on the same couch, as opposed to on couches hundreds of miles apart. That her dad consistently calls on Saturdays whenever the Michigan Wolverines do something stupid. That her mom learned how to send texts that say, “I love you.”

SARA DOBIE IS THANKFUL: That she lives in Charleston, South Carolina—a city with ancient wrought iron fences, mansions overlooking a turbulent harbor, and flickering lamps that bathe the bricked streets of the French Quarter in golden light.

SARA DOBIE IS THANKFUL: That her boyfriend has a sense of humor that makes her laugh until her ribs hurt; that he cooks better than Martha Stewart; that he supports her, no matter what, without looking at her like she’s off her rocker; and that all it takes is a hug from him to make Sara Dobie believe everything truly, honestly, will be all right.

SARA DOBIE IS THANKFUL: That she has loving friends—in Charleston and scattered across the US—who send hugs, smiles, advice, and gag gifts, without expecting anything in return.

SARA DOBIE IS THANKFUL: That she has been on many adventures. Spellbound and dizzy at the edge of the waterfall in Hocking Hills, Ohio. Crying at the glory of the Paris Opera House. Drunk with her Uncle Barney, stumbling along the quays of Venice. Hiking the Narrows of Zion National Park in her battered, green Airwalks from eighth grade. Even playing Marco Polo in her parents’ basement. (And Dad, we will always know you had your eyes open.)

SARA DOBIE IS THANKFUL: That sometimes, she remembers to be thankful. Because it is easy to forget. And what is life, if we forget to be thankful for the little things that make life so great?

Happy Thanksgiving, dear reader. I’m thankful for you, too. Tomorrow, eat until you pass out. Hug everyone you know. If you’re up to it, hug a stranger at the supermarket. Or feel free to just yell GOBBLE GOBBLE after one too many spiced ciders with Captain Morgan.

New Moon: A Jailbait Showcase

At the theater on Saturday, a twelve-year-old gave me a run for my money. When Taylor Lautner took off his shirt, I was about to purr. Then, this little girl in freakin’ pig tails beat me to the punch. I must be getting slow in my old age. I say old at 27, because shoot, Lautner is 17. Talk about jailbait…

I read all Stephanie Meyer’s Twilight books. I liked them for what they were—teeny bopper vampire porn. I saw the movie Twilight, and I thought it was dumb. Granted, I saw the midnight showing, and I had a migraine at the time, but still, the flick—and all the actors—annoyed me. I did not go to see New Moon on opening night. I waited until Saturday, because I thought, why not? It’s not like the movie is going to play once and then, disappear like a distraught Edward Cullen, leaving Bella (or Sara Dobie) lost and bewildered in the woods.

Hey, Cullen, move. You're blocking the wolf dude...

There was a line thirty people long when I arrived, but thankfully, my dates for the evening were already there, waiting. My dates were three chicks, and I’d say the girl to guy ratio in the theater’s entirety was about 9 to 1. We took our seats, and yeah, we squealed during the opening credits. The movie began, and…

What? Are you expecting some grand Twilight saga epiphany? Well, there isn’t one.

New Moon was a lot like Twilight, only a little better. Much like the Harry Potter crew, the Twilight kids evidently took some acting classes in the interim. The directing was good. Nice camera angles. Some cool shots. Nice close ups on Bella being SAD and MISERABLE. The best part was the music. I wonder what Radiohead’s Thom Yorke thought when his agent was like, “Hey, dude, you want to do a song for the Twilight saga?” I suppose he said, “The what saga?” Thom Yorke’s probable shock at soundtrack inclusion notwithstanding, the soundtrack was GOOD. Some Death Cab, Band of Skulls, the aforementioned Thom Yorke, and of course, the return of Muse.

I’ll say a bit about the special effects and makeup. The werewolves were pretty sweet, and the wolf dudes were fun on the screen. I thought they were more interesting than the vamps, to be truthful. The vampires did look cool, though, as vampires tend to. On the topic of the coolness of the wolves, I’d like to submit my bid for Team Jacob. I know, it’s a stupid advertising ploy to take sides, but it was a strange juxtaposition for someone who read all of Stephanie Meyer’s teen angst. By the end of Twilight, you’re all about Edward Cullen. By the end of New Moon, I was asking “Edward Cullen who?”

Jacob wins. It’s not just how dang cute the boy is; it’s the charisma that Rob Pattison seemed to be lacking. It could have been the dialogue. Maybe Pattison’s absence for the majority of the film. Maybe Pattison’s desperate need to eat a sandwich. (He was skinnier than me, and no girl likes a dude THAT skinny.) Whatever it was, by the end, I wanted Bella to pick Jacob. We’ll just have to see what happens, hmm?

The bottom line: New Moon is an okay flick. It’s entertaining. It has some good dialogue. We can all appreciate the attractiveness of the cast. If you’re expecting an action movie (as billed by the trailers), go see something else. If you’re expecting high brow entertainment, just stay home and read a book.